Black Hearted Bellerophon
by Little House in the Woods
Summary: While searching the ruins of Banora, Cloud finds something that will change his life forever. Time travel AU.


**Disclaimer: **Final Fantasy VII is owned by Square Enix.

**Warnings: **Violence, language, and one-sided Zack x Aerith.

**Author's Notes: **Beta read by Pen Against the Sword.

* * *

**BLACK-HEARTED BELLEROPHON**

**Chapter One**

_The Muses sing of Bellerophon, the mighty warrior.  
He killed the Chimera and flew to the heavens, seeking the power of the Gods.  
Zeus threw him down for his ambition and arrogance.  
Now he roams the world in a state of madness, haunted by the past._

Fenrir screeched to a stop outside the dilapidated, weathered barn. Cloud Strife yanked the key from the ignition and placed two booted feet on the baked ground. Barn swallows chirped nervously at him as he assembled his Fusion Sword. He cast a sympathetic glance at the birds as he passed beneath their precariously hanging nest. They wanted him gone, and he wished he could oblige.

Reeve, however, had asked him to come. There had been reports of monster activity at the bombed out Rhapsodos place, and since hideous creatures had once been bred there, it made sense to investigate the property. The last thing the new President needed was for some innocent person to get mauled and killed out in the countryside. The WRO had enough problems trying to clean up the mess that had been made by Weiss the Immaculate and his friends.

The phone strapped to his belt buzzed as he circled the building. When he removed it from its clip, he saw Tifa's number flickering across the screen. He ignored it. She would start worrying about him if he told her that he was investigating Professor Hollander's old hideout. Best to let her think, for now, that he was on the road to deliver supplies.

He stashed his PHS in an empty compartment inside his motorbike and then squeezed through the gap in the unmovable steel doors in front of him. The smell of sewage smacked him head on. It was as foul and powerful as that of a dead Grand Horn. He was still reeling from the stench when he heard the sound of toenails skittering over tile. He cast Fire3 in time to see a green-skinned Sahagin go leaping through a hole in the wall. It vanished before he could react.

_Oh well. _He lowered his sparking fist. He was here for fiercer creatures, like Death Claws and Very Hungrys.

He surveyed the room, assessing his surroundings. The inside of the building was as rundown as the outside. Rusted pipes twisted along the ceiling, and broken pieces of glass lay scattered across the floor like coins in a fountain. Clamps and curettes sat on the counters, gathering dust and cobwebs, and there was mold to be found everywhere he looked. He slid open a shower stall and instantly regretted it; rotting food and empty prescription bottles lined the sluice. He slammed the door shut, feeling queasy. It was hard to imagine anyone living here and even harder to imagine Hollander having once practiced medicine here.

Cautiously, Cloud made his way through the debris. Foam and insulation crunched beneath his shoes, and books toppled over as he crept along. He couldn't seem to move without his sword, held out in front of him bumping into things, and it wasn't long before the entire floor was littered with magazines and old farm catalogs.

Metal clattered to the ground behind him.

He swiveled around and then realized the sound he'd heard had just been himself knocking over something else. Grimacing, he flicked his glowing fingers toward the mess he'd made. He stilled as his light source fell upon the sharp, jagged prongs of a trident poking out from under a wooden table. What the hell was something like this doing here?

He bent down and pulled out his find. The bronze-colored gems adorning the base of the blade shone eerily against his palm, and the blue materia orb in the center of the decorations shimmered like some undersea phosphorescent lichen. As he turned the weapon over in his hands, staring anxiously at the runes cut deep into its sides, the orb started to hum and pulse. Before his eyes, it flared to life, a faint blue-white light expanding from its center.

His eyes widened as shadowy shapes emerged from the sea of pale fire. Things he did not recognize or understand flashed before him.

He saw infantrymen burst into a cottage and arrest a couple sitting down to dinner. The dark-haired man and woman were led outside and forced to their knees at gunpoint. His blood ran cold as they were brutally executed in a fusillade of bullets. Something about them felt familiar, but he could not place where he'd seen them.

Had they met before?

The swirling vapors inside the orb rolled at that moment, mercifully obscuring the sight of their headless bodies. The infantrymen and the dead couple vanished, and Sephiroth rose out of the mist. Cloud watched with apprehension as madness danced in his nemesis' eyes, and the silver-haired man's lips curved up in a cruel, contemptuous smile. A bound and hooded prisoner materialized beside Sephiroth, and Masamune shimmered in the general's hands. The next thing Cloud knew, the prisoner's body was lying in two pieces at Sephiroth's feet, and Masamune dripped blood.

Who were these people? When had these terrible acts occurred? In Nibelheim, or when Sephiroth had still been a devoted SOLDIER? He could not tell exactly where these scenes were taking place as the fog obscured their surroundings.

Sephiroth and the prisoner faded away, and the most hideous creature he'd ever seen came into view inside the orb. Clumps of loose skin sagged off its cheeks, and ugly veins bulged from its forehead. Fangs protruded from its mouth, and scraggly black hair framed its face – an ugly gray face that looked like that of a dead, mummified human. He shuddered involuntarily as its gruesome pupiless eyes began to roam about.

Suddenly, he felt as though it were aware of him, _searching _for him.

The creature came toward him, but just before reaching him, the trident's glow abruptly faded, and the material orb was plunged into darkness.

The dreadful beast he was seeing in miniature vanished.

Shaken, he snapped off the blade and bundled it in the giant sleeve he'd once used to cover his ravaged arm.

He tucked his bundle under his arm, hoping Reeve would be able to tell him what kind of dangerous new toy of Hollander's he'd discovered.

He made his way through the rest of the property, paying visits to the mill and the remains of Banora Village. Fenrir made it easy to cover the distance between buildings. The cottages were in as sorry a state as Hollander's hideout, and he ended up spending more time than he intended inside them, searching for signs of monster activity within the debris. The day was half-gone when he finally called it quits. He left the gamekeeper's old home, frustrated that he had found nothing. He had sacrificed an entire morning of deliveries for _this,_ and the sun was now high in the sky, and the temperatures pushing ninety-eight degrees. Driving to Rocket Town to meet his client was going to be unbearable in these conditions. Mako enhancements did not give one super tolerance to the heat.

He backtracked to the spot where he had left Fenrir, his reluctance to get on the road increasing with every step he took. A tall old tree caught his eye as he was preparing to mount his bike, and the sight of it made him stop dead in his tracks. Here was coolness and shade. A quiet spot to relax while he waited for the humidity to drop off and the drizzle the weather forecasters had promised to come.

He stretched out beneath the massive Banoran white, the hilt of First Tsurugi tucked under his arm. The North wind ghosted across his face as he made himself comfortable, and the spicy scent of cinnamon overpowered his senses. He inhaled contentedly and was hit with the smell of wildflowers and mulch at the same time. Waxwings burst into song as he sank back against the trunk, filling the orchard with glorious, joyful noise. One by one, all the other songbirds in the trees joined them. He raised his head reverently as they flitted from branch to branch. For awhile, he merely lay there, letting the beauty of the place seep into his pores.

Eventually, his eyelids grew heavy. He closed his eyes, intending to rest them only for a minute, and sleep, lethal and fatal, claimed him. He drifted off with the mysterious toy of Hollander's he'd found glowing and humming beneath his other hand.

* * *

Consciousness eventually returned, and Cloud opened his eyes to find himself lying on his back beneath the Banora whites. He blinked groggily at the grey-brown branches, regretting his decision to lay down. The sun was sinking fast beneath the hills, and the trees cast long, clawed shadows in the fading sunlight. By now, he could've been in Rocket Town.

He pulled himself to his feet and hurried out of the orchard, hoping that if he left now and pushed one hundred the entire way he'd still be able to make it in time.

A deadline-destroying sight greeted him when he entered the hamlet where he'd left Fenrir. The office supplies he'd been hired to deliver lay strewn all over the grass, and his compartments hung open. His spare change of clothes was draped over the bike's seat, the pockets turned inside out and emptied.

He spent the next five minutes trying to figure out what else had been taken. His PHS from the looks of it. His Sprint Shoes. And _his gas_.

'Fuck.'

Cloud saw red. Now he was stranded in the middle of nowhere. Calling for help was not an option with his PHS missing, and cars were scarce around here, so he could write off finding someone to give him a ride. 'Great,' he seethed. He was going to have one hell of a long journey back to civilization, especially with night closing in on him.

On the bright side, however, this area was teeming with weak monsters. And where there were monsters, there were bound to be bounty hunters and mercenaries. They were always looking to increase their profits and would no doubt leap at the opportunity when he asked them to sell him some spare gas. The hard part would be finding where they were staked out in this neck of the woods.

He hauled ass of the road, where he knew for sure he wouldn't find any camps. He started to have luck after about an hour of going crazy looking at leaves and soil. He had feared that playing 'ranger' was going to be all in vain.

He silently entered the promising-looking copse of trees. Getting his head blown off by a startled bounty hunter would be a dreadful way to end the day, and getting jumped by the bounty hunter's Guard Hounds was _not_ something he wanted to experience either. He had enough of Dark Nation type dogs to last a lifetime. His fingers were inches from his sword as he made his way toward what appeared to be a parachute stretched across some tree branches and stabilizing bars. The sound of fat bubbling over a fire greeted his ears. From the darkness, there came the loud, unmistakable clucking of chocobos. His spirits rose.

Then he saw the assault rifle pointed at him, and all those warm fuzzy feelings he had vanished in a flash. The bounty hunter staring down a barrel at him looked like a cat getting ready to pounce on a mouse. Cloud's shoulders slumped. 'Drop your weapon,' the man barked. 'Toss your materia and sword into the bushes, and state your name and class. I want to know which of the Shinra traitors I'm bagging this time.'

Cloud made no move to comply with either of the two requests. 'Don't feel like it.'

The bounty hunter's thumb clicked loudly against the trigger. The man was just itching to press it. 'Name and class, now. I lose money if they have to waste time identifying a body.'

Cloud made a quick note to himself to find out who "they" were. "They," he assumed, weren't the surviving remnants of Deepground. The bald man standing next to the parachute did not seem like the type of person Weiss the Immaculate would hire. Too hot-headed and arrogant. 'Name's Not Worth It,' he growled. 'Occupation's package handler. You've made a mistake. Put the gun down?'

The man kept the gun pointed at him. 'Delivery boy my ass. Delivery boys don't carry swords like that.'

Cloud held out the business card he never gave anyone. It had his picture and 'Strife Delivery Services' printed all over it. He tried his best to cover the image with his thumb. In the photo Tifa had taken, his eyes were shining brightly like blue lanterns. 'They do if they have people like you sticking guns in their faces. You never know who you'll run into out here in the wilderness.'

'No shit. This'd be the perfect place for all those traitors to hide out. ' The man snatched the business card away and studied it . After staring at it long and hard, he added, 'I don't think though you're one of them. Shinra doesn't keep stupid people like you on their payroll. What can I do for you? Can I point you toward the post office, buddy?'

'Do you sell gas?'

'Does this look like a gas station to you? Go bother someone else! Good luck finding someone to help you if your car's broken down. Nearest house is thirty-five miles from here.'

Cloud's heart plummeted. That was going to be a very long walk. 'I want to buy a bird from you,' he said, his stomach flip-flopping at the thought of doing business with this man. He was most likely going to get ripped off. 'Do you have one for sale? I have money.'

His hand started to creep toward his pocket. His gaze remained locked on the bounty hunter. The man still had his gun out, but now it was no longer raised. A sign of progress, perhaps.

'You better not be pulling a knife on me.'

Or not.

'No knife. Payment,' he said, quickly pulling out a wad of gil.

The jerk took the money and inhaled deeply, like he was smelling a divine fragrance. Cloud was painfully reminded of the night he'd spent at the Honeybee Inn, having his heavily perfumed ringlets snuggled and cuddled by the Don Corneo. To make matters worse, the bounty hunter's muddy green eyes were also shining with lust. 'I expect to get a bird if you're going to take my money,' he interjected, his voice cold and clipped.

The bounty hunter stopped fondling the cash and gave him a sour glance. He was talking pretty big for a delivery boy. 'Of course, of course. Let me get your bird for you.'

The snake disappeared behind the parachute and came back leading a blue river chocobo. Its feathers were coarse and horribly matted, and it was the scrawniest looking thing Cloud had ever seen. The condition it was in did not inspire confidence, nor did the yellow paint on its beak, left over from the time the bounty hunter had tried to pass it off as a gold chocobo. It would be a miracle if this train wreck of a bird got him home without biting it. 'How much do those black ones over there cost?' he sighed.

'Those? They're Teioh's babies-the champ chocobo who's always blowing the competition up. I'm afraid I can't let any of 'em go for less than one hundred thousand gil.'

One hundred thousand gil was a sum Cloud did not have. He cheerlessly accepted the cheap leather reins the bounty hunter handed him. He tried to hang them around the pitiful creature's neck, and it spun around and bit him hard enough to draw blood. The owner offered to tack up the chocobo for him after that, and it warbled and shook when it had a light-weight blanket and saddle placed on its back.

'Has this bird been trained?' he demanded.

'Oh yes. He's a class A racer. The best handlers have worked with him.' The bounty hunter's tone was disgustingly fake.

'Tell me where I can find help,' Cloud muttered, hoping that he would never meet another person like the bounty hunter again.

The other man sensed his discomfort and smugly pointed to a cliff in the distance. The trip would be just do-able with the pathetic bird. 'A retired husband and wife live over that ridge. They'd probably sell you some gas if you paid them as much gil as you paid me.'

Cloud politely refrained from asking the bounty hunter if those two people were his associates. The brute kept on talking.

'You should ask 'em to put you up for the night.'

'Why?'

'You don't want to be out traveling at night. Those deserters make this area very dangerous. You could be riding along, minding your own business, and suddenly have them swoop down on you and take off your head. We've lost a lot of good men to these SOBs. Our fine President's trying to add new recruits to the ranks to replace the ones who've died, but good fighters aren't easy to find.'

'Repeat what you just told me.' Cloud's voice cut through the frigid air like a knife. A feeling of dread had been gnawing away at him ever since the bounty hunter had brought up Teioh and spoken about the infamous bird as though it were still alive and racing. Teioh had been served up chicken and rice years ago. His suspicions were rapidly rising. 'Sorry, I didn't catch what you said the first time.'

His expression changed from frustrated to agitated, his pallor reddening and his eyes tightening. He had been certain that the bounty hunter was working for someone with a grudge against Shinra Electric Co. Now, he was not so sure. The man was talking too passionately about the President to be a Shinra hater. 'Did you say these deserters "swooped down on people"?' he persisted, his unease growing. He was beginning to see winged men again in his future.

The bounty hunter nodded.

'And if you kill one of these men, the President will set you up for life?'

Yes again. Cloud stood there in grim silence. It all made horrible sense to him now: this bounty hunter, he realized, was being paid by the President to hunt down victims of Hojo's twisted research. Rather than follow Reeve's advice to apologize and do no future harm, Rufus had decided to bury them six feet under and deny that they'd ever existed.

But whom, Cloud wondered, did this bounty hunter hope to cash in on? Was this man chasing after runaway lab rats like Nero the Sable, or -

_No way. _He shivered as his vision filled with white flame and feathers black as sin. He turned to his wretched companion, his heart thundering like a Wutaian drum, his emotions racing helter-skelter. He had a question he feared to ask. 'What do these deserters look like?' _Do they look like the crazy bastard who tried to destroy the Planet?_

A dry laugh sounded from the bounty hunter's throat. 'What kind of a question is that? Everyone's seen their pictures.'

But he hadn't. 'Do they have silver hair and black wings sticking out of their shoulders?' His voice was very low now, his intonation deadly.

The mercenary smirked. 'No, they have pink hair and rainbow-colored wings. Are you trying to be smart with me?'

"No. I'm not.' Cloud threw the bounty hunter a withering look. His patience was reaching its expiration point with the man giving him attitude and a chocobo who didn't like him chirping and tugging away from him. He felt the reins pull in his hands. The damn bird wanted nothing more than to bolt into the night. 'It was just a question.'

'A fucking dumb one. The story's been all over the news. The TV, don't you watch it?'

For the past four months he hadn't, no. Reno had ruined the TV for him, leaking a video of him styling and spiking his hair to the press. The video had gone viral, and he had become the talk of the town. The fear of finding himself featured again had made him swear off everything except the Sunday morning cartoons the kids forced him to watch, and even those shows weren't 100% safe. These days, there was a Kooky Khocobo character on TV with a crazy 'do. He was certain that it had been inspired by him.

'I'm not a TV person. People tell me what's going on,' he replied irritably, the Kooky Khocobo theme song now playing in his head. 'What's the latest news?'

The scowl that accompanied his words made the bounty hunter think twice about asking him if he was aware that that TV he was boycotting had a porn channel on it. 'The army just prevented another attack on the Shinra Building. Those traitors keep going after it. They seem dead set on assassinating the President and the Professor. I hear they were dressed up like Genesis this time. Fucking freaks.'

_Genesis, _as in Genesis _Rhapsodos, _the former SOLDIER whose property he'd been investigating? If the terrorists attacking the city resembled Genesis, then they couldn't be Tsviets or Sephiroth copies. They'd have to be…

Cloud barely managed to force the words out. 'Genesis clones.' He remembered them, vaguely, from his Shinra infantrymen days. They'd been crawling all over Junon when the city was on lockdown.

'Genesis _what?'_ the bounty hunter cut in.

'Imitators!' Cloud amended quickly. The less the bounty hunter knew, the better.

He turned aside and started combing his fingers through the blue chocobo's feathers so the bounty hunter wouldn't see his vexation. The bird remained as upset as ever.

He stared off into the distance, his keen eyes roving across green hills and sheer cliffs. His throat constricted as cliffs and peaks that had been destroyed by a mad god's wrath sprung up around him in all their original, unmarred beauty. Wearily, he identified a tree that he and Tifa had rested under when they'd been racing across the continent trying to save the world. The buzzing in his head grew louder and that feeling of having the air - no, _life_ - sucked out of him returned. He looked down expecting to find a vampire latched onto his neck, bleeding him dry.

The impossible had happened and he'd somehow gone back in time.

But how, how could that be? Seeing is always easier than believing.

Cloud swallowed hard. Then swallowed again. With each swallow, he repeated to himself that this couldn't be real, that shit like this didn't happen. That he had to be dreaming. And yet, undeniable proof lay all around him.

Blood was streaming down his arm from the bird bite. The bounty hunter's radio was playing loudly in the background. Scarlet was on air talking about how great things were coming from the weapons department. Her high-pitched, inimitable laughter was shattering his ear drums. And a blimp was flying overhead, dropping bundles of paper. The Shinra logo stretched across its inflated white sides.

He snatched a flier from the air as it fluttered to the ground. Sephiroth's eyes peered up at him from the black and white picture on the front side of the paper, commanding attention. The general looked proud and confident in the photo. Powerful and all-knowing. The perfect poster boy for Shinra. The caption beneath the picture read "JOIN ME."

The breath caught in Cloud's throat. This was the flier he'd taken in with him the day he'd failed the entrance exams. What an awful day that had been.

He crushed the flier in his hands.

A thunderous boom in the distance drowned out the sound of paper being shredded and torn in two. It was like two ships crashing into each other. He turned East as the noise repeated itself. This time, it was deep and rolling, and blue-white light flashed through the trees. He blinked like a deer caught in the headlights, and the bounty hunter laughed. 'Is the little delivery boy afraid of the big bad cannon?' Then, more gravely, 'They're testing its range in case we ever need to use it.'

'The Junon cannon.'

Cloud went mentally blank, the question of _how_ haunting him. The only thing he could think of was Aerith, manipulating things from the Lifestream. He'd seen her power first hand. He knew that she could pull something like this off. But if this was her doing, why in the name of the gods would she send him back to this time in his life? So he could see his friends killed again and thousand of peoples' lives destroyed?

'Does the bird have a name?' he distractedly asked the bounty hunter, who had gone off to the fire to pounce on the delicious smelling stew.

'Yes. We call him Mr. Strife. What are you still doing here? Fuck off and let me eat.' The big tub of lard smugly said, ladling out his food in a hurry. He chuckled as some of the mush he was transferring splattered, hitting his guest.

At this, Cloud stirred, his heart burning even more hotly than the meat juice sizzling on the top of his hand. It was slowly dawning on him that all his dead friends and enemies were going to be making a big comeback, and that he was going to be seeing them real soon. 'Has there been any mention of Lazard in the news?' he asked at length.

Lazard was safe to ask about. The man had meant nothing to him.

'They're still out searching for him. Haven't turned up anything yet. I think those traitors got him.'

That would place them a few months after Modeoheim, if this was no dream_... _ Cloud registered the news quietly. Hollander would be festering in a cell in Junon, waiting to get some good old Turk loving. Hojo would be getting ready to take over the science department, and _Sephiroth_ would be getting ready to hole himself up in his office.

He led the blue chocobo out of the mercenary's camp-site with a barely audible farewell, memories of being tortured by Hojo dogging him with each step. His footsteps were leaden, and his stomach kept twisting into knots.

They came to a tree by the roadside, and there he stopped to get a hold of himself. His mind was reeling from it all.

It was all too much to think about, so he decided to take it one step at a time. He needed to decide where to go once he got Fenrir fixed.

Proceeding on to Rocket Town was an option. One look at Cid would confirm whether this was a dream or not, but what then? If this was real, Cid wouldn't recognize him. He'd receive no help from the foul-mouthed aviator and his wife and likely end up being reported as a suspicious SOLDIER to Shinra when he showed up. He would find himself on the run, and Cid and Shera would find themselves interrogated by Shinra and marked as persons of interest.

Perhaps heading to Cosmo Canyon would be a better idea?

No, it wouldn't. His chances of blending in in Rocket Town were better than they were in Cosmo Canyon. He would stick out like a plant in Midgar in the small village and Cosmo Canyon would be crawling with Turks by the end of the day. Nanaki's home would be placed under long-term surveillance, and Nanaki would find himself headed for the science labs when they saw such a rare animal.

Cloud's shoulders slouched. If this was real, and he had indeed gone back in time, contact with him could have severe consequences for his friends. They might even find themselves worse off than before. Maybe it would be best to avoid people and roam around the continent, searching for the means to get home. Everyone would be safe from him that way.

But they wouldn't be safe from Shinra or Jenova.

The events that had killed so many in the past would repeat themselves while he was seeking answers, and people would find themselves a lot worse off than if their lives got altered coming into contact with him. This time, Sephiroth might get away with roasting the Planet with Meteor. However, if someone who knew what was going to happen were to become involved…

Cloud's heart sank. He could prevent it all if he intervened. He knew where to find Jenova, knew how to get at Hojo, and had the enhancements and experience to survive long enough to destroy them both.

But going through it all again was a bleak thought.

Gaia, what had he gotten into? Why was the Planet doing this to him? Hadn't he saved the world three times now? And couldn't someone better than him have been found? He was a runaway lab rat. Not a hero.

He gazed at the clouds, his eyes containing a bleakness most often seen in those sentenced to were lost and pleading, as though he were begging someone to wake him up from this nightmare.

He knew that he had to do this. It would be _wrong_ to let Jenova destroy this world. And he knew he would never forgive himself if he walked around in a dazed trance letting everything happen all over again. His friends needn't pay the same price twice for his failures. Their lives would be changed by his actions, but they would be _alive_.

'Feel like taking me to get supplies?' he said to the blue bird.

It chirped back at him, and he cheerlessly fixed his eyes on the red-gold sun.

Ultimately, he decided it didn't matter whether he went East or West. He had business both in Midgar and in Nibelheim, and seeing either one in its untouched, original state would confirm that this was no dream.

He looked over his shoulder, regretting he hadn't asked the bounty hunter where Sephiroth was.

Then, he realized, that didn't matter. Confrontation was going to be inevitable once Shinra found out about the new loser in their midst and their scientists started twitching to get him into their labs. Not to mention, the things he planned on doing to prevent a repeat of the past were going to make him public enemy #1.

If everything went according to plan, Hojo would die, and Jenova would burn.


End file.
